Page 12 of Broken Hearts (Hibiscus Hearts #1)

None of what I’m telling Sage is a lie, but it isn’t exactly the full truth either. That first time, I really did tell them all to fuck off, Mitch included. And while my counselor raged about it, Mitch just laughed and told him to let me be, that I’d come around eventually when I realized how good an opportunity this was. Somehow, without knowing anything about me, he knew this wouldn’t be the only time our paths would cross, and he was right.

Unfortunately, in the end it took a broken arm and three cracked ribs before he finally didn’t just let me be. A broken arm and three cracked ribs before he said enough was enough and stopped me from leaving. He’d seen other things, sure, but I think this was the final straw for him. It was for me too, considering by this point I was basically sleeping on the beach most nights.

But I can’t tell her any of this because then she would ask questions about my past and all the other shit from back then. It was bad enough telling Mitch all those years ago; I don’t need to relive it with his daughter now.

Thankfully, Sage nods at my words but doesn’t say anything as we now turn and head back toward the car. When we’re turning onto the main street, she surprises me by saying, “Thank you for today.”

I glance over, returning the smile she’s giving me. “No worries. Just doing my job.”

She smirks a little at that. “Not sure showing me around my dad’s shop is technically part of your job, Nate,”

she says, a teasing tone to her words.

Chuckling, I shrug. “Yeah, maybe not, but Mitch woulda kicked my ass if I didn’t, so…”

I trail off, not sure how to tell her that it was also something I wanted to do too. Something I actually liked doing.

“Well, can I buy you dinner to say thank you?”

she asks, and this time she sounds a little nervous.

“You don’t have to buy me dinner,”

I quickly say, noticing how her smile disappears with my words. “I mean, it’s not?—”

“I know I don’t, but I’m pretty sure my mom would kick my ass if I didn’t say thank you,”

Sage says, cutting me off.

I rest my elbow on the driver’s door, the sea breeze filling the car through the open window as we make our way down the highway. “It’s your shop, Sage,”

I say quietly. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“No,”

she immediately says, shaking her head at me. She’s almost fully turned in her seat now, her back against the door as she watches me. “It’s not my shop, Nate. I know nothing about it.”

“Not yet,”

I offer. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s yours. You’re his daughter.”

She blows out a breath, tucking her hair behind her ear only for it to almost immediately blow back out. “I don’t even know if he had a will,”

she says. “For all I know, he could have left it to someone else, to you maybe.”

“I doubt it,”

I say, even though deep down, I know there’s a part of me that would love that, and not just because it would solve all the problems I’m currently worried about. “We should probably ask Tanner,”

I now suggest. “If anyone would know, it’ll be him.”

Sage nods, turning back in her seat so she’s facing forward. “Okay, we can talk to him,”

she says. “But you still haven’t answered me about dinner.”

I shoot her a sideways glance, a small smile tugging at my mouth as I ask, “You really want to have dinner with me?”

She shrugs, the smile back on her face now as she says, “Today was kinda…nice, and well…”

“I’ve stopped being such a dick?”

I offer, finishing her sentence.

She laughs now, the sound husky and kind of sexy. “Yeah, that definitely helps,”

she teases, her elbow propped on the door and her head resting in her hand as she watches me.

I laugh, shaking my head a little. “Yeah, okay, let’s grab some food.”

She nods, still smiling as she asks, “You know anywhere good?”

With a grin, I ask, “How do you feel about Mexican?”

After we get back to the shop, we go our separate ways to shower and change. As I pull on a pair of worn jeans, I try to figure out what this invitation to dinner is really about.

I mean, yeah, today was a good day, and as much as we got off on the wrong foot when she first showed up here, today I had fun with her. But does that mean we’re now friends? And if so, what does it mean for the shop?

“Nate?”

comes her voice through the screen door, pulling me from all my questions.

“Yeah,”

I call back from the bedroom. “Come in. I’ll just be a sec.”

I hear the creaking sound of the door opening, followed by the thump as it shuts again. Glancing around my bedroom, I try to find a clean T-shirt, only to remember they are all still in the small laundry off the kitchen.

With a sigh, I wander out to find Sage standing in my living room, her eyes slowly moving around the space as though she’s taking everything in. She’s wearing a dress now, with thin straps on her shoulders, the blue material hugging her chest and hips before barely reaching her knees. She looks fucking hot, especially with her long blonde hair hanging down her back.

“Hey,”

I say, swallowing hard.

“Hey,”

she whispers, turning to me, her gaze dropping to take in my bare chest.

I don’t miss the way her eyes widen or how the color of them almost perfectly matches the color of her dress. “Just gotta grab a…”

I trail off, jerking my thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

Sage nods, and I turn and walk away to grab a clean T-shirt before walking back into the living room as I’m pulling it over my head.

“I’ve never been in here before,”

she says, moving toward the small dining table, which is covered in sketches. “Wow, are these all yours?”

she asks, looking up at me.

“Yeah,”

I reply with a nod.

“Are they all for the surfboards?”

I blow out a breath, not used to having anyone in my space like this. “No, some are just for fun, and some are ideas I have for…well…”

“For what?”

she asks when I don’t continue.

I shove a hand back through my hair as I make my way over to where she stands. Turning to the sketches, I grab one of a young kid surfing a barrel wave, his hand up in the classic Hawaiian shaka greeting of thumb and little finger out. Underneath it is the phrase “Living The Pipe Dream”.

“For T-shirts and shit,”

I eventually say.

“Like for the shop?”

Sage asks, turning to me.

“Yeah,”

I reply with a shrug.

She turns back to the table, her eyes moving over all the sketches that are laid out. It feels weird to have her look at my work like this because I don’t normally show it to anyone until I have a solid idea for what it’s for. Even then, Tanner usually has to ask me for my designs.

“I think they’re fantastic,”

she eventually says, her words barely audible. “You should definitely do it.”

I drop the sketch back on the table, turning to her, I offer a small smile. “Maybe,”

I reply. “Guess it depends on what happens with the shop.”

It’s not meant as a dig and from the way she nods in acknowledgment, I don’t think she takes it as one either. But considering I have no idea what’s going to happen with it and she hasn’t elaborated on her plans any further, there’s little point designing T-shirts if it’s just going to close down.

“Anyway, should we go eat? I’m starving.”

We walk into the small town just a couple of blocks from the store. The night is warm, and there are plenty of locals around, enjoying the evening. Sage and I don’t talk much, and it’s not until we reach the small Mexican restaurant that she finally says, “This looks great.”

“It’s my favorite place to eat,”

I tell her, holding the door open for her. “Mitch’s too.”

Sage smiles as she walks inside, and I follow behind her.

After we’re seated and have both ordered margaritas, strawberry for her and lime for me, she picks up the menu and asks, “Okay, so what’s good?”

Chuckling, I say, “Honestly, everything.”

She glances across the table at me. “So what would you and my dad eat then?”

she now asks. “Let’s order that.”

“Okay,”

I say, giving her a small smile.

When the server returns with our drinks, I put in an order for the street taco platter for two, elote, queso, salsa and tortilla chips and the beef burrito.

“Um, okay, so that’s a lot of food,”

Sage says, holding up her glass.

“Yeah,”

I reply, doing the same, the two of us clinking them together. “We were always starving after surfing, so… You don’t have to pay for it all or whatever.”

“No, no,”

she says, waving a hand as she takes a sip of her drink. “Holy shit, that’s good,”

she murmurs. “And yes, it’s on me, dinner I mean.”

I smile, not saying anything as I take a mouthful of the cold liquid, loving the sour taste.

“So, does your family live in Hawaii?”

Sage suddenly asks, and I nearly choke on my margarita. “Shit, are you okay?”

she asks, halfway out of her chair.

I cough into my hand, nodding as if to tell her I am. “Yeah, fine,”

I eventually get out.

She watches me, her eyes wide, as she waits for me to answer. When I don’t say anything, she prompts me again, with a “Nate?”

I take another mouthful of my drink, wondering if this was her plan all along, to get me out in public, get a few drinks into me so she could ask all the questions that were undoubtedly running through her head when I told her about how I first met Mitch this afternoon.

“Honestly, I don’t know,”

I eventually say.

“What?”

she asks, clearly surprised.

I shrug, taking yet another mouthful. “Don’t really know my family.”

“You were…”

She trails off as though she’s searching for the right word before eventually settling on one. “Adopted?”

I shake my head, lifting my drink again only to find it’s now empty. Signaling to the server, I wait until they’re standing beside the table before ordering us both another drink, even though Sage is only halfway through hers. When the server leaves, I turn back to find Sage watching me still, an expectant look on her face.

Chuckling, I reply, “Not adopted and did anyone ever tell you, you’re kinda?—”

“Nosy?”

she prompts.

With another laugh, I shake my head as I say, “I was gonna say ruthless, but yeah, I guess nosy also works.”

Sage smirks at that, finishing off her drink just as our new ones and the food arrive. “Yeah, okay, maybe I’ve heard that too, but honestly, if you’d met my mom, you’d know where I get it from.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not Mitch,”

I say, smiling, remembering how Mitch never pushed me to tell him anything. Instead, he just gave me space and time, creating an environment where I felt safe to start that conversation.

“Tell me more about him,”

she now says, and I exhale, grateful for the subject change.

We spend the next couple of hours and several more margaritas talking about Mitch. Sage asks me a million questions about him, but this time steering clear of anything directly related to me and how we met or how I came to be living in his guesthouse or working in his shop.

I’m grateful because I honestly wouldn’t know how to tell her. How to tell her that her dad basically saved my life, even if it seems as though he was barely in hers.

By the time we are done, we’re both stuffed with food and a little drunk.

“See, not so much food after all,”

I say, gesturing to the empty plates in front of us.

Sage giggles as she finishes her drink, the last of the liquid making a slurping noise as she sucks it through her straw. It draws my attention to her mouth, and clearly, I must be drunk too because once again, all I can think about is what it would be like to kiss that mouth.

“I am so full,”

she moans as she lowers her now empty glass to the table.

I smile, my eyes still on her mouth as I say, “Yeah, maybe a little drunk too.”

She giggles again, signaling to the server for our check, immediately handing over her credit card before I have a chance to offer mine. “Should we head back?”

she asks, letting out a small burp before covering her mouth in embarrassment.

I laugh, liking this new side of her. “You think you can walk back?” I tease.

“Absolutely,”

she says with a nod. “I’m not that drunk!”

But when she moves to stand, she stumbles a little and I can’t help but laugh again, reaching out a hand to steady her. “You sure? You kinda seem like you might be,” I say.

Sage shakes her head as the server returns with her card, signing the tip before she turns to me again. “Nope, just a little tipsy,” she says.

We make our way to the entrance of the restaurant, stepping out into the still warm night. Sage lets out another burp that for some reason makes me laugh as I ask, “You’re not gonna puke, are you?”

She punches my arm now, a look of horror on her face as she says, “I do not puke! I’m just…just…”

“Drunk?” I offer.

“Okay, maybe a little,”

she says, throwing her arms up as she rolls her eyes.

“You want to grab a taxi back?”

“Noooo,”

she says, shaking her head. “We should walk some of this booze off.”

Chuckling, I turn toward home. “Okay, come on then.”

Sage falls in beside me, neither of us saying anything as we slowly walk back to the shop. We only get a couple of feet, before suddenly Sage stumbles a little, this time a low, “Owww”

falling from her mouth.

“Shit, you okay?”

I ask, stopping.

“Fuck, I stubbed my toe,”

she moans, hopping on one foot as she tries to inspect her other one.

I can’t stop laughing, knowing that for all her denials, she is definitely drunk. “Come on,”

I say, turning and crouching down a little.

“Um, what are you doing?” she asks.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I grin, lifting my brows as I say, “Jump on, I’ll carry you back, drunk girl.”